


A Winter Dream

by flyingonthewind



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, References to attempted suicide, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:04:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14745891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingonthewind/pseuds/flyingonthewind
Summary: Isak’s mark had turned red only a fortnight after he got it. He’d made his peace with that. It didn’t stop the dreams of that winter night, though. The memory of warm hands and intense blue eyes staring him down still popping up, making him wonder what if?Set in a world where soulmates are found by the touch of skin, Isak navigates life alone. At least he did until some drunk guy spilled beer all over him on the tram.Chapter two follows the couple in the weeks after them reconnecting, focusing on Even's journey towards healing past hurts.





	1. Chapter 1

Warm hands framed his face. From them a pleasant heat spread to the rest of his body, slowly, kind of like syrup poured over pancakes. He hardly dared to breathe, standing stock-still, frozen mid-step.

“You are beautiful!” The words were spoken with conviction, each word pronounced clear and sure. They landed like soft caresses on the wind- and snow-chilled skin of his face, they were standing so close. Blue eyes stared into his own, boring as if searching for his soul. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He was frozen in the moment, trapped by the eyes and the hands on his face.

“Even!” The words rang hollow and fake in the air, as if someone was speaking through speakers. “Come on man!” He wanted to ignore the words, to wish them out of existence so he could stay here in this moment. It didn’t work, and the hands disappeared along with the eyes and the warm, serious face.

“He’s so beautiful! I think he’s my soulmate!” The voice seemed to hang in the air like white steam.

(***)

Isak blinked awake. The creme of his bedroom wall looked almost grey in the pre-dawn light drifting in through the thin white curtains. He starred at the wall, thoughtlessly, letting the last words from his dream bounce around his head, holding onto it as well as he could. The sudden shrill howl of his alarm scattered the words and the phantom feeling of hands against his face. With a groan, Isak flopped onto his back, staying there for a moment before he rolled over to shut the alarm off. With an almighty sigh he heaved himself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stumbled out of the room.

It was a tired-looking Isak Valtersen that met him in the bathroom mirror. He needed a haircut, blond curls creating a mess of a birds-nest on top of his head. Heavy black shadows framed his eyes. Deep lines carved their way across his forehead as he tried to stare his mirror-image down. It didn’t have much of an impact and after a moment or two he gave up. He nimbly unclasped the black leather cuff with its black braid, placing it on the shelf above the sink. Most mornings he’d avoid looking at his wrist in the short time it took him to shower, still not used to the sight of the mark. This morning though, he didn’t.

Seeing the mark always made his breath hitch. The red, unfurling lily seemed almost stark against the black web of his original mark. Lost in memory, he let the tip of his finger trace the edges of the circular mark on the soft skin of the inside of his left wrist. It had happened a fortnight after the strange encounter on a cold street in the middle of Oslo. The encounter that had filled out the mark in the first place. He’d been sixteen, just getting used to having a mark in the first place. The strange boy had walked right up to him, placed his hands on Isak’s cheeks and told him he was beautiful. Then he had sauntered of with his friends.

 

That was the only time Isak had seen him, his soulmate, and he never would again. The mark had turned red less than a fortnight later. The change had happened during the night. Isak hadn’t even noticed until the morning after. It was, to Isak, the cruelest thing that he had met his soulmate only for him to die a few days later. That he’d had to go through Cravings and grief for a person of whom he knew nothing more than that he had deep blue eyes and warm hands.

It had been hard, for a while, not lessened by one of his mothers episodes leading to his father leaving them for good. It had culminated in a quite deep depression, which had taken him a couple of years to beat. By now, though, he was well past all of that. He kept himself busy with his studies and his part-time job at a cafe. Most days he didn’t spare a thought for his lost soulmate.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Isak turned to get in the shower. The warm water helped a little in settling his fluttering nerves. A comb through the birds-nest also did wonders for his overall presentation. He tried for a smile at the mirror-Isak, who smiled back behind a film of steam.

 

(***)

 

It must have been snowing during the day. Fresh snow was slowly turned as grey and murky as the snow of the day before. Isak starred at it through the glass-door of the lobby; at the way collars were pulled up and hats pulled down as students left the warmth of the university in favour of homes or bars or whatever else lay waiting for them. If he could time it right, he’d only have to endure the cold for a few minutes. The tram stop was only a short sprint away and hopefully the tram service hadn’t been impacted by the bad weather. He should be able to run straight into one if he took of in a couple of minutes. He clicked his phone to life, intent on keeping his eyes on the time, but was instead distracted by a new message from his roommate. Rolling his eyes at the suppressed concern that lay behind the friendly interest in wether he’d be back i time for dinner, Isak typed out a quick reply. Then he realised he’d have to book it if he wanted to catch the tram.

 

It was about as cold outside as it had seemed, the frozen air hitting him like a wall. He pushed through it, racing for the platform. He could see other people waiting, though the promising headlights weren’t cutting their way through the foggy darkness. He came to a standstill right in front of the small info-board, his breath leaving a cloud in front of his face as he sighed. _3-5 minutes delays on all services._ The yellow letters mocked him from the board. Not resisting a scowl, Isak pushed his hands deep into his pockets, and went to stand by the low railing. He really, really wanted to go home. The dream had been haunting him all day, making him feel on edge, like there was something coming up. His mark had been acting up, too. It did that sometimes when he was stressed. There had been a time when the slight itch had made a naive hope swell in him, but not anymore. If his studies had taught him anything, it was that the mark would never ever change. His soulmate was gone, and would not, could not, return.

Maybe it was the article that had him lost in memories and thinking up itches. The article they’d read for class that morning had presented new evidence to support the theory that soulmarks relied on DNA markers, and that it was indeed possible to find a new soulmate in certain cases. The researchers, Santiago and Donell, proposed a hypothesis that two groups in particular were more likely to find a second soulmate. - Glitches and those who had never fully formed the connection. - People like Isak.

Finally, the headlights appeared, and Isak pulled out his pass to flash it at the driver before making his way down the aisle of the coach. The tram was crowded enough that Isak quickly gave up finding a seat. He made his way to the middle of the coach, gripping onto one of the handholds attached to the upper railing, just as the tram sat into motion. Home was now only about 20 minutes away. He dug out his phone with his free hand, getting lost in the group-chat he had going on with his friends.

“Oh, sorry.” Isak looked up at the sound of a voice right next to him The tram had just set back into motion after a stop, causing someone to bump into someone else. When Isak had boarded the tram he’d been standing next to a middle-aged woman with two stuffed shopping bags by her feet. In her place now stood a young man, probably the same age as Isak. He was tall, taller than Isak, hanging of the upper rail with ease, swaying with the motion of the tram. He was looking at Isak, lips pulled up in a playful smirk, which underscored an intense stare. His eyes were ice-blue and they hadn’t changed one bit since the last time Isak had looked into them. The air suddenly refused to leave his throat. The mark on his left wrist suddenly wasn’t itching so much as stinging. This shouldn’t be possible. It had to be made up. All these memories had him seeing ghosts were there were none. There was only a quite handsome young man who happened to look exactly like Isak’s lost soulmate. It was all Isak could do to look away, and he could still feel the strangers eyes on his face.

“Hey.” The voice was deep and smooth and insisting. Almost out of reflex Isak’s eyes glanced to his right to find blue eyes staring straight at him.

“Hey?” He gasped out the word, forcing his eyes away again. Talking to strangers on the tram was as a rule not socially acceptable.

“You go to the university, right?” The stranger either didn’t know about social conventions or didn’t care about them because he continued the conversation undeterred. Isak nodded without turning back towards him. “What do you study?”

“Soulmate studies with a focus on the biological aspects.” Isak chanced a quick glance at the stranger, and therefor saw the way his eyebrows shot up his forehead as he whistled, impressed.

“I did media studies. Finished before christmas.” The stranger lent towards him as if in confidence. “I’m Even.” he offered his left hand in greeting, shaking the sleeve further down his wrist to show of the black cuff that covered his mark. Isak’s stomach lurched at the name, and he did his best to ignore it in favour of offering his own hand. Even’s eyes caught on the black braid, as most people did, but had the good grace not to comment on what it meant.

“I’m Isak.” he said, shaking the offered hand. It was warm, and send a soft tingle up his lower arm.

“Nice to meet you, Isak.” Even’s eyes were still intent on his face, a soft smile now hiding in the corners of his mouth. If it hadn’t been for the black cuff, Isak might have found himself reading things into the intensity of Even’s behaviour.

“You, too.” He mumbled out, feeling flustered and slightly confused. Even was hanging of the railing, heavily, leaning towards Isak. For a moment, Isak managed to get lost in his eyes, the rest of the tram melting out of focus. He was brutally pulled back to reality, though, when the Tram suddenly lurched forward, setting of a chain reaction. A drunk guy had just boarded the tram, a half empty can of been in his hand. When the tram started moving, his unsteady moments caused him to stumble forward, losing his grip of the can so that it sailed through the air. As luck would have it, the can flipped in the air just as it soared into Isak, thus spilling the entire content over his coat and pants.

“Shit, man. My beer,” The drunk guy complained, stumbling forward to pick the can up from the floor. Isak, too stupefied by shock, starred after him as he continued down the aisle, complaining. It felt as if everyone in the tram was staring at Isak, standing there covered in beer.

“My stop’s coming up,” Even’s voice cut through the shocked haze of Isak’s brain. “You can get cleaned up at my place.” The beer was seeping through the material of his jeans, making his skin itch. Even though home was just a few stops further, getting out of the smelling clothes was now a top priority. Nodding his thanks, Isak followed Even of the tram.

(***)

Even lived quite close to the tram-stop, thankfully, and they walked quickly and quietly side by side to get there. He unlocked the door to the third floor apartment, waving Isak inside with a sympathetic wince. The hallway was small and cluttered, jackets hanging in layers on little hooks above a small pile of shoes. Even toed of his own, to add to the pile and Isak quickly copied him.

“The bathroom’s through here,” Even waved for Isak to follow him, “I’ll get you something to change into.” Feeling only slightly awkward, Isak shuffled into the bathroom. Fortunately, Even soon returned with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for Isak. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he said before closing the door behind him. Isak changed as quickly as he could, trying not to notice little details such as the duo of toothbrushes by the sink and the collection of skincare products and makeup on the shelf above it.

Even wasn’t alone in the kitchen when Isak entered, his smelly clothes in a bundle in his hands. Sitting with him at a small table stuffed into a corner of the kitchen was a young woman. She was a pretty sort of girl, with short blond hair, green-blue eyes and fine features. The two of them matched well with each other.The young woman got up from the table with a warm smile, walking towards him.

“Hi, I’m Sonja. Even told me what happened,” she said, reaching out to take the clothes from Isak. “Let me throw this in the washer for you.” Isak watched her leave the room with his clothes, feeling extraordinarily clumsy and increasingly awkward. Even smiled at him from where he was sitting at the small table, waving for Isak to join him.

“Thanks for this,” Isak said, sliding into an empty chair, folding his hands together in his lap.

“No worries,” Comfort and confidence was oozing of off Even as he sat in the chair next to Isak, long legs stretched out in front of him. “Want a beer while we wait?”

“Yeah, sure.” Even got up from the table, and got beers for the both of them out of the fridge. He passed one of the bottles to Isak as he got back in his chair. For a while the kitchen was quiet around them as they sipped their beers. Isak spend the time looking about the space. It was a nice kitchen. Small, with generic-white fronts and a linoleum counter. The surfaces were kept clean and cleared save the kettle and a small selection of cookbooks stacked neatly.“So,” Even broke the silence, making Isak’s head snap back to him. “I hope you hadn’t made big plans tonight.” 

“Nah, just dinner with the roommates and a round or two of FIFA.”Isak took another swig of his beer, looking over at Even. “And you? Any plans?” Even shook his head, adopting an exaggerated mournful look.

“Nope. No plans besides a quiet night in with a good movie.” Even said it causally, sinking even further back in his chair.

“Oh.” Isak picked at the label of his beer, nervously, trying to push down the feeling that he was imposing. “That’s nice, though, taking it chill.” He could feel the wight of blue eyes on him, even as he looked at everything but Even. He was saved from the awkwardness when Sonja reentered the room.

“I’ve started a quick-wash. - That should do the trick. You’ll have to shift it to the dryer in about 40 minutes. I’m off.” she spoke quickly, moving across the room in confident strides. “Don’t overdo it,” she taped the beer bottle lightly before she lent down to press a kiss to Even’s cheek. “See you later. Nice to meet you, Isak.” With that she was gone again, leaving the kitchen silent.

“Right, so I’m starving.” Even said, suddenly, breaking the fragile stillness of the kitchen. “You like pasta?” Confused, Isak nodded. He watched as Even got up from his seat and started pulling things from cupboards.

“Can I, um. Help, or?” Isak set the bottle down on the table.

“Sure.” Even turned to look over his shoulder, warm surprise in his eyes. “Tomatoes?” he pointed towards the neat little stack of tomatoes he’d duck out of the fridge sitting next to a chopping board. Biting his lip, Isak went to wash his hands before getting started. Cooking with Even was quite an experience. There was an assuredness to his movements as he all but danced from task to task, sprinkling herbs, chopping carrots and stirring sauces. He had put on some low music, after asking Isak what he preferred, and found time in between the rest to throw down a move or two. He talked and teased and tangentially flirted. Isak was fascinated, spending more of his attention on Even than one the tomatoes he was supposed to prepare for the sauce. It was a simple meal - pasta with meatballs (homemade from the freezer) - but Even made it look like a feast.

 

They ate, sitting at the small kitchen table. Even had insisted on lighting candles, claiming that it was tradition when guest were dined. Isak was beginning to suspect that Even wasn’t the kind of person who did things by half. The conversation flowed easily; surprisingly so for someone who’d never been good with new people. Isak hadn’t forgotten the similarities between this Even and his soulmate Even. It was hard to do when every intense gaze and brush of warm hands had the memories bubble to the forefront of his mind. Still, this Even was steadily carving out his own special strange encounter shelf in Isak’s mind. The reason for Isak’s being in Even’s home had fated into the background as the night wore on.

 

“So what movie were you going to watch?” Isak asked when the food had been eaten, and the plates pushed aside.

“I was thinking of going with a classic. Maybe ‘Ella and Tyrone’.” Even had pulled one long leg up onto the seat of his chair, folding an arm around it and resting his chin on his knee.

“The one based on that play?” Isak frowned slightly, sorting through his memory to find what information he remembered of the movie. It was some hollywood flick based on a renaissance play about teenagers from different backgrounds forming a soul-bond. It might be a classic, but it all seemed a bit overdramatic for his tastes.

“Yeah. You haven’t seen it?” Even rose an eyebrow questioningly. “We’re watching it right now then!” Even stated at Isak’s shake of the head, jumping from his chair. Bewildered, Isak followed him out of the kitchen and into a small living room. The room was quite different from the kitchen. More cluttered, somehow, with a blue couch taking up most of the floorspace. An overstuffed bookshelf was shoved into a corner. Another, filled with DVD cases, stood guard next to a flatscreen mounted to the wall. A clutter of framed picture filled the wall behind the couch, and little trinkets had found their ways onto windowsills and tables.

“Take a seat,” Even encouraged, already busy scanning the DVD collection.

“What about the dishes?” Isak asked, uncertainly, standing in the doorway. Even send him a look that was hard to interpret.

“Are they running away?” he asked.

“No.” Isak replied, uncertainly.

“Well, then there’s no need to go on a chase just yet. Sit down.” Even had located the DVD waving it at Isak. “We have an Epic Adventure ahead of us.”

“Okay, okay.” Isak held up his hands in surrender, walking over to the blue couch to take a seat.

“So what exactly is it that makes this movie this epic?” Over the cause of their admittedly very brief acquaintance, Even had revealed himself to be quite the movie buff. The look he send Isak over his shoulder from his crouched position was one of superior wonderment at another’s ignorance.

“The camerawork, the use of imagery to tell the story within the story, the scenes, the acting. This is practically a perfect movie, Isak.” He got to his feet, remote in hand, and crossed the room in two steps, throwing himself down on the couch next to Isak.

“Perfect? Using big words there, aren’t we?” Isak turned to send a teasing look in Even’s direction.

“We’ll se about that,” Even teased back, pressing play on the remote.

(***)

The movie wasn’t perfect, in Isak’s opinion, but it was way better than he’d expected. It, at least, was catchy enough to almost distract him from the weight of Even’s awareness of him. They didn’t speak as the movie played, but Even kept sneaking glances at him, which mean that there was no hiding the frustrating tears rolling unbidden down Isak’s cheeks, as the main characters chose togetherness in death over lives apart.

“Shit, Isak. I didn’t think.” Even turned in his seat to look at Isak with wide eyes.

“What?” Isak twisted in his seat to face Even on the couch. Rather than answering, Even let his eyes fall to the cuff-covered wrist that was now resting against Isak’s thigh. “Oh. That.” Isak sighed, looking at the black braid as well. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“You must have been really young.” Carefully, measuredly, Even reached over to trail a fingertip over the braid. The breath caught in Isak’s throat at the slight touch, and he barely breathed when, instead of pulling his hand back, Even moved to take a gentle hold of Isak’s.

“I was.” Isak got out after a moment. “Sixteen. But I only met him that one time. When we bonded.” Even had twisted in his seat, too, so that they now sat facing each other on the couch, holding hands. Evens thumb was brushing over Isak’s skin, softly, teasing, reassuring. Not knowing what else to say, Isak looked up into warm eyes that seemed so very familiar.

“That sucks.” Even said in an almost whisper that only made the world shrink even more around them, closing them into their own tiny little space.

“I’m over it,” Isak said with a half a shrug. “Mostly anyway.” He added because secrets and untruths seemed out of place here. Even nodded as if he knew exactly what he meant. Something told Isak that he did.

“I lost my soulmate, too,” Even said after a moment, “Not in the way that you did, thankfully. At least I know my soulmate is out there somewhere, hopefully happy.”

“But. Sonja?” Isak frowned, pulling one leg onto the couch without letting go of Even’s hand.

“Sonja? Sonja isn’t my soulmate.” There was a solemn look on Even’s face, though not an unhappy one. Rather, he seemed thoughtful, sincere. 

“But. Oh. Then what..?” Even’s thumb was still sliding rhythmically over Isak’s skin.

“I wasn’t well when I met him. I didn’t realise, at first, and when I did he’d already disappeared. I’ve tried tracking him down since, but. He’s of the grid.”

“He?” Isak knew his voice came out small and weak. But he had to ask, had to know. There had just been so many pieces popping up that night, forming a neat story that sounded almost believable to Isak’s ears. He had to follow it to the end. Even was nodding, slowly.

“Yeah,” He whispered. “I remember thinking he looked like a vengeful Angel in the snow, too gentle to actually be able to hurt anyone. I think I meant to tell him, but. The next thing I remember is finding my mark filled. By the time I got back to the street where I’d seen him, he’d left.”

A silence fell between them as they sat turned towards each other, heads tilted close, resting comfortably in hands. There was peace in that silence, and comfort. An understanding of the other that neither had experienced before.

“I’ve notice you, before.” Even’s voice was entirely soft now, a tired murmur that wound between them. “I just didn’t have the courage to talk to you before tonight. You see, you kind of look like my Angel. The one I lost.”

“I do?”Isak frowned, even as Even nodded. “You look like him, too. My soulmate. I nearly had a heart attack when you spoke to me.” Even was frowning now, too, his eyes searching Isak’s face.

“You don’t. Do you think there’s a chance?” It was spoken in a whisper, disbelief dancing with a dash of hope in his eyes.

“I don’t see how there could be. My mark’s red.” Isak whispered back, even as his heart beat faster. There was a tiny, infinitesimal number of cases after all. People who had been clinically dead for a prolonged time, coma patients, that sort of thing. “You said you were ill when you met him?” A new urgency found its way into Isak’s voice. “Was it something serious?” Even’s eyes fell away from Isak’s.

“I’m Bipolar.”

“That can’t be it.” Isak frowned, sensible of the weight of the confession, but too busy trying to solve this new puzzle. Even looked op at him through his eyelashes, shame hiding in his eyes.

“Can’t be what?” he asked.

“Hypothetically, my soulmate could be alive. But he would have had to have been clinically dead at some point for a while.” Even’s eyes turned serious and sharp.

“Would two minutes and forty-three seconds be enough?”

“What?” Isak asked, bewildered, “I’m not sure, why?”

“I died for two minutes and forty-three seconds. Would that be enough for a mark to change?” Even’s voice was urgent, almost desperately so.

“I…” Isak could only stare at him. Even starred back, his teeth working in his mouth, clearly deliberating something. Suddenly, with a move that seemed almost violent, he pulled his hand back, struggling to undo the clasp on his cuff. “I know that it’s not clear, but.” He hissed when his trembling fingers wouldn’t succeed. On the third attempt the cuff finally fell away. “Is this it? Are we bonded?” He held out his wrist for Isak to inspect. Even’s mark had been damaged, a jagged line running through it. Still, it was unmistakably familiar. The lily in this mark was black, fading into the wavy lines of Isak’s original mark. The sight of it blurred as tears sprang into Isak’s eyes. There were too many feeling wrecking havoc in him for him to be able to form any words, he knew though, that he was nodding, blinking rapidly to clear his vision enough to be able to see Even’s face. Warm familiar hands were framing his face. He felt more than saw Even’s blue eyes searching _word._ Leaning forward, Even pressed his forehead against Isak’s and his disbelieving mutter fought its way through the fog in Isak’s brain.

“I found you. I found you, my Angel.”


	2. Even's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of searching, Even finally found the soulmate he lost years before. Now he can finally begin to heal some of the hurts of the past.

Everything was bright. As if huge spotlights illuminated the world around him. Snowflakes glittered and sparkled as they made dancing patterns against the illuminated walls of the tall buildings lining the street. Above them, the deep black of the sky made it seem like the world ended just above their city. The air was so cold, it burned his lungs with every breath. 

He had never felt more alive. 

He knew his friends were there, could feel them pull at him, sense their voices floating among the snowflakes. But they never managed to stray far from the edges of his consciousness. 

The air shifted. A swirl of snowflakes drifted past him, and he followed their path with his eyes as they danced across the street. Then he spotted him. The boy. It was was if the whole world was drawn to him, light hovering about him, softly following his path, snowflakes dancing around him without ever getting in his way. The boy noticed none of it. If Angels were real, they would look exactly like that boy, striding down the street with his hands deep in his pockets. His face, reddened by the cold, was twisted into a mixture between a scowl and a pout. The bright curls shone in competition with the street lamps. Just like the rest of the world, he was drawn to him. A magnetic pull dragged him across the street without thought or intention. 

The boy stopped and so the world had to stop as well. His cheeks were cold against his hands, but there was a fire burning in green eyes. A fire that spread, igniting even the darkest corners of his mind with a blinding blaze. The boy disappeared. Left was only the swirl of snow that had stolen the boy from between his hands. 

The sky started bleeding black. Darkness overpowered the spotlights. Everything dimmed until all that was left was the white snowflakes dancing through the blackness. Then they, too, were gone. 

A flash of red exploded. 

Then the world stopped. 

(***)

Even woke up, slowly, consciousness seeping in in increments. His heart was going wild against his ribcage. The sour taste of a dream hardly remembered filled his mouth. Warm skin pressed against his chest. Soft hair tickled his nose. A slow breath filled his ears. Isak. The snow had returned him. He was right here with Even, sleeping. Safe. As slowly as he had awoken, Even fell back asleep. 

(***)

The sound of the doorbell and of hushed voices seeped into the music samples Even was running through, but it wasn’t enough to pull him from what Sonja jokingly referred to as his work-haze. It wasn’t until the prickling sensation of someone watching turned into an insisting itch in his earlobe that he swirled his chair around. Isak was there, leaning against the door jamb. A soft smile was playing on his lips.

“Hi,” Even felt the word float from him on a long breath as a large grin spread across his face. It had been two weeks since he had gotten the courage to actually talk to Isak, and his heart still started to dance from joy whenever his soulmate entered a room. 

“Sonja let me in,” Isak explained, wandering over to Even, who’d pushed away his giant headphones. “She said you were to absorbed in you work to notice the world spinning.” He rested his hands on Even’s shoulders, bending to press a kiss into Even’t hair. Even pouted up at him, folding his arms around Isak’s middle. “I notice you, always.” He said it, even though he knew how cliche it sounded. After all, they deserved a little cliche. He was rewarded with a cheeky smile and a sweet kiss. Two weeks of Isak had shown Even that beneath the stony, distanced aura was a warmhearted and playful guy. 

“I’m glad,” Isak said, playing absentmindedly with the hairs at the back of Even’s neck. “You should get back to work though, or your boss wont be impressed. I have course work to look over, so I wont be bored. Much.”He stole another kiss before slipping out of Even’s arms and throwing himself on the bed next to the desk. Even pouted over at him, exaggerating it when Isak shook his head at him. His soulmate pulled a stack of papers from his backpack, blew him a kiss, and got settled on the bed. Even watched him for another breath, before turning back to the screen. He pushed the headphones back into place, and was almost immediately lost in his work-haze, though Isak’s presence hummed softly through his veins. 

When Even reemerged from the screen, snow was tapping harshly against the window in front of him. Behind it, the world was black. Even turned to look at Isak, who had exchanged the papers for a thick book, and had tucked himself into the corner. He looked entirely relaxed there, sitting on Even’s bed. Since re-finding each other, they had spent almost all their time together, only separating for work or Isak’s studying. 

 They hadn’t told a whole lot of people about them reconnecting. Even wasn’t sure how to explain without reopening wounds better of closed. Also, he and Isak had enjoyed shutting themselves in a sort of bubble, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to share his soulmate with anyone else just yet. It wasn’t Craving. At least, Isak said it couldn’t be, since they had already been through that. But still, there was this need to be close, to share thoughts and secrets, to get under each other’s skin. Other people didn’t fit in to that.

So, for now, Sonja was one of the few people who knew, mostly because she lived in the flat alongside Even. He and Sonja had been friends for a long time. Once, Even had even been kind of in love with her. That was forgotten now, though. When she had returned to the flat the morning after Even’s strange encounter with Isak there had been little besides wondrous joy in her eyes at the news. Since then, she had tried to give them as much space as she could, and they had taken as much advantage of that as they possibly could.

Grabbing his book from the nightstand, Even slid onto the bed next to Isak. His soulmate didn’t look up from his book, but tilted to the side to settle against Even, a deep sigh of contentment seeping from him. Before long they were both juggling their books one-handedly as Isak’s fingers played with Even’s between them. The soft music floating from Even’s computer on the desk was the only sound filling the room. This soft, quiet co-existence had become almost ordinary, though Even did break from his reading for a moment to breath it deep into his lungs.

It wasn’t until Isak’s fingers had strayed to toy with the cuff covering Even’s mark, that Even noticed Isak had abandoned his reading. His head had tilted to rest against Even’s shoulder. The heavy book lay flat against his outstretched legs. Even watched for a moment as Isak drew repetitive patterns over the dark-brown leather above where Even knew the mark to be. 

“Even?” Isak’s voice was low and intense. “What happened to you mark, did it have anything to do with two minutes and forty-three seconds?” The words were presented softly, hesitance and trepidation clinging to them. Even could feel frost spreading through his body, making it rigid and cold. He knew Isak felt it, too, though he kept up the soft patterns of his fingers, waiting for Even to speak. 

“Yeah,” Even sighed, letting the word hang lonely in the air for a moment. “Yeah, there’s a link between the two. I.” Even breathed quickly and loudly through his nose, trying to decide how to tell his most painful story. “When we met, I was manic. Everything was bright and beautiful. Everything seemed to happen in blinding flashes. One moment you were right in front of me. The next you had disappeared without a trace. I don’t remember much of what happened, next. It’s all a blur, but. I went looking for you. It became like an obsession to find you. I think my brain had decided that the snow had stolen you, and that I had to go through these trials to prove myself worthy of you. Somewhere along the way the mania turned to depression. I kept failing the trials until I had convinced myself that I wasn’t worthy of you, of a soulmate.” Isak was warm against his side. Almost too warm. A part of Even felt smothered by his presence, like he couldn’t breath with Isak so close. Another part felt grateful that Isak was still there at all, that he hadn’t run away yet. The thought of continuing the tale physically hurt as if a rope tied tight around his chest prevented any air from entering his lungs. Yet Even forced himself to go on. 

“My friends had no idea what was happening to me. They stayed for a while, trying to convince me to give up on my attempts at getting you back. They told me that you might not want to be found, that maybe you weren’t looking for a soulmate. We were young, still. It wouldn’t be that strange. Maybe soulmates weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Maybe forgetting about you for the time being would be best for the both of us. When I wouldn’t listen, they stopped trying. Maybe they were frightened, maybe they thought I’d gone crazy. Maybe they just gave up on me. 

“One evening I got into a fight with my best friend, Mikael. He wanted me to stop looking for you. He said that I was torturing myself, that I was making myself sick. I know now that he was right. But back then. The depression twisted all their words, turned them against me, made them ugly and hurtful. When Mikael left after a screaming match, his words kept ringing in my head, over and over again, turning uglier until it felt like a monster was growling at me. I didn’t deserve you, it was saying. You were better off with no soulmate at all than being tied to someone as disastrous and insane as me. This monstrous voice took over everything. I couldn’t hear or feel or see anything but what it was telling me. I had to make it stop. I had to do what it was telling me to do. I had to set you free. So I got a knife from the kitchen, and. Well.” 

Isak was shaking. He wasn’t making a sound, though Even knew he was crying. Neither of them moved for a long moment. Then Isak moved swiftly, straddling Even to wrap around him like a koala. He took Even’s face into his hands, eyes glued to Even’s.

“You are worthy of me!” the hushed whisper carried the fierce honesty of the words through the fog of Even’s brain. “You are my soulmate, and you are worthy of me.” Even barely dared breathe. His eyes stung despite all the times he’d told himself enough tears had been spilled over this. As if to prove the truth of his words, Isak pressed his lips against Even’s, hard and sure. “You’re mine.” He whispered the words against Even’s lips, then leaned back to pin Even with glowing eyes. “And I am not letting go of you.” For a moment he held Evne’s gaze to make sure his words were heard. Then he tucked his face into Even’s neck, his tears wet against Even’s skin. Tears to match were sliding down over Even’s cheeks, as he folded his arms around his soulmate and returned the tight embrace in kind. 

“They told me that it was Mikael who found me. But I never saw him again. I never saw any of them again.” Even whispered the words into Isak’s hair, the sting of the loss wedging its way into his heart. He still missed the guys though he tried not to. “I wonder what they’d think of this. Of us having found each other.” Even mussed, hands stroking up and down Isak’s back, slowly. Isak made a humming sound against Even’s neck, arms tightening fractionally. 

“I think they’d be happy for you.” He whispered in a hoarse, muffled voice that was as much felt as heard. Even didn’t know what to do with that, so he just twisted his head to press a long kiss against Isak’s hair. 

(***)

It felt strange, somehow, to knock on the ordinary brown wooden door to his childhood home. Even stuffed his phone in his pocket as he listened to the knock ring through the flaton the other side. - The flat he had shared with his mother and two older sisters from he was ten. The phone buzzed softly in his pocket, and Even had to stop himself from checking what was sure to be a reply from Isak as the soft clicks of his mothers heeled boots against the hardwood floor of the entryway drifted through the door. Isak was having dinner with his roommate ‘before he calls the police or something’, and Even was here, surprising his mother. For the first time in three weeks he wasn’t spending the late afternoon with his soulmate. It didn’t feel entirely right. It didn’t feel entirely wrong, either, which was probably a good thing. 

A soft smile spread over his mother’s face the moment she saw him. It sent a wave of familiar comfort through Even. 

“Well, hello dear,” her voice, soft and warm, washed over him. Hannah was shorter than him, by some, even in the blue heeled boots. She wore a soft, warm-looking grey sweater wit a soft swooping collar, and a knee length darkblue skirt. Two grey braids hang down over her shoulders, framing a weather-worn face. Blue eyes matching his own shone at him, smilelines crinkling around them. “What brings you to my door, my stranger of a son?” She cupped a warm hand around his cheek before pulling him down for a hug. 

“Just thought I’d check in.” Even whispered. He knew how she worried about him at the best of times, knew that he’d given her more than enough reason to do so. He didn’t like it. 

“Well, come in then,” She stepped aside to let Even in to the flat, hand smoothing over his back as he stepped past her. He dutifully hung up his coat and toed out of his shoes, before following his mother towards the small kitchen tucked into one corner of the flat. He had spent many hours in that kitchen. Hannah had always been adamant that her children be able to cook a decent feast, and had patiently been teaching them from a young age. Picking up the knife and starting in on the broccoli on the large wooden chopping board was almost second nature. 

“What are we making?” He asked as he started cutting of little bunches of broccoli. 

“Steamed fish with greens,” was the simple reply. His mother had started covering large fillets of white fish in a flour-and-herbs mix. Hannah was a traditionalist only when it came to food, favoring sturdy northern dishes. The windowsill was brimming with fresh herbs, feeding on the winter sun drifting through the glass, spreading their fresh sent through the kitchen. 

“Sounds good,” Even smiled as an all too familiar silence filled the kitchen. Cooking together was the only time the flat descended into quiet. On any given moment, their family was one of sound - Always talking, playing music or watching TV, often in a cacophony of combinations. Except when cooking. Then they were quiet, working together in a rehearsed dance. Soon, pleasant, grounding scents filled the air, and his mother pushed plates and silverware into his hands, pointing to the small table pressed under the herb-filled windowsill. It’s surface was covered by newspapers and craft projekts, and Even had to unearth the flower tablecloth, before setting the table for their simple dinner. 

“So, are you going to tell me what brings you to my door, unannounced?” Hannah sent him a Look over filled plates. 

“I told you, I just wanted to check in,” Even forked a piece of fish, only flashing a brief look her way. She raised her eyebrow at him, unimpressed. 

“You’ll have to try better than that, my son.” She took a sip of water, her eyes not leaving his face as she drank. 

“Okay, so maybe I do have some news,” Even traced the rim of his own water glass with a fingertip, his heart beating unexpectedly fast in his chest. His mother waited for him to continue, a soft smile lurking in the corner of her eyes. She knew how to read him, knew that good news were ahead. Even breathed, deeply, the air nearly getting caught in his throat on the way. “I found him.” The words sounded so simple, almost insignificant. Yet they fell onto the table between them like boulders, the rumble rolling through the kitchen. 

“You found him,” Hannah repeated the words, her voice tight, either from sad memories og hopeful joy. Her face told the story of both, tears lurking in the corner of her eyes, lines carving into her forehead, her mouth softened in a half-smile. Even nodded slowly, not able to fight the smile the thought of Isak brought out.

“Where was he hiding?” She asked, going for a light and playful tone, and almost achieved it. 

“His mark turned red.” Even didn’t even try for light at playful. Hannah’s face sobered up immediately.

“Oh, poor boy,” She whispered. “I did wonder if that might have happened. If it would have been enough.” She reached across the table to fold a hand around Even’s hand. “I never checked though. Couldn’t bare to find your name in the Deceased Soulmate Register.”

“It never occurred to me before he was suddenly there with a black braid around his wrist.” Even frowned at his fish. Since the hospital they had hardly spoken about what he’d done, but it had hung around the house as a ghost, always pressent, always haunting. Isak had been there, too; a second ghost moving about the flat, softly. They had spoken about the ghost of the lost soulmate from time to time, wondered why he didn’t show up in the registers, or if he wasn’t interested in finding Even. After a while, though, even these talks had faded, and this ghost, too, had become silent. 

“I know you didn’t, Sweetheart, and I am glad for it. To me, it was a sign that it wasn’t on your mind anymore.” Even looked up at his mother, and she must have been able to read the guilt in his eyes, because she sighed, got up from her chair to walk around the table, and folded her arm around his shoulder. “It’s okay honey. I know how much you have been carrying around on your shoulders since that night. I’ve seen how hard it has been. But let me tell you, sweet boy. You’ve done good. You’ve turned into this amazing young man, that I am so very proud of, and I just know that this soulmate of yours will see that too. Call it motherly intuition.” 

“I hope so,” Even muttered, offering a half-shrug. Hannah smiled, ruffling his hair the way she had since he was very little. 

“Trust me, my son, your mother is always right about these things.” Even laughed a slightly wet and very overwhelmed laugh, watching her as she got back to her seat. “Now tell me about this boy. And eat your dinner!” 

That wasn’t hard orders to follow, little stories about Isak standing in line to be told between bites of dinner. Soon mother and son moved to the livingroom and the oversized red couch taking up half the room, leaving the dishes undone in the kitchen. The conversation moved, too, to the topics of Even’s sisters, work and things his mother wanted him to read. He was sent home hours later with a carrier bag of leftovers and books, and with an order to bring Isak over at the earliest opportunity _._

(*)

“Isak?” Even mumbled into his soulmate’s soft curls. The smile that had met him when Even had returned to find Isak nodding over a huge book, had sent rays of warmth all through his body, and he’d just had to kiss Isak thoroughly. Both of them had been too tired to turn the slow, sleepy kisses into more, and before long they ended up just holding each other quietly. Isak was curled up against him, head on Even’s chest. Neither could quite muster the energy to get up and get ready for bed, too content being cuddled close. Isak hummed a sleepy reply. “You, ehm. You’re registered as a Soulmate, Deceased, right?” Even hadn’t been able to get the image of young Isak walking in to the Soulmate register to submit his RM claim out of his mind since his mother had mentioned it. 

“Yeah, I am. I had to.” Isak looked up at Even with a confused frown. “I didn’t have a name though, so there’s just a description of the red mark. Why?” 

“My mum mentioned it at dinner,” Even hummed, letting his fingers run through soft curls. “I never thought to check. I’d checked everywhere else, but not the DSR. Sorry.”

“Why sorry?” The frown on Isak’s face deepened as he pushed away to get a better look at Even. 

“Because I didn’t find you. Because you were out there, grieving, and I didn’t find you.” Even looked to where Isak’s hand rested firmly against his chest rather than at his face. 

“I didn’t look for you at all. Not after the mark changed.” Isak whispered in confession, pushing himself into a seated position facing Even. “Should I be sorry, too?” 

“You thought I was dead. What was there to look for?” Even reached over to fold his hands around Isak’s which were nervously twining together in his lap. 

“Well, I don’t want to waste time thinking about what could have happened. Yeah, it was a crap time for the both of us, but who cares? We found each other. That’s the important part. We’re together, now, and we get to stay together. That’s what matters. That’s what I want us to focus on.” Even watched the dance-like movements of their fingers for a moment. 

“Yeah. Of course that’s the important part. I just hate that you had to go through all of that.” Even traced the black braid attached to the cuff on Isak’s wrist. 

“So do I. And I hate that you had to go through what you did.” Isak twisted his hand to grab a hold of Even’s raising it to press a kiss against his knuckles. “But more than that, I’m happy. I’m really, really happy.” Frustratingly, Even felt tears creep into the corners of his eyes as he stared at Isak with intensity. 

“I’m quite happy, too.” Even whispered. Isak offered a little half smile, leaning in to rest his forehead against Even’s.

"That’s good,” he whispered, giving Even a soft eskimo kiss. “Then let us be happy, together.” 

(***)

Isak was studying at the kitchen table. At least, that was the intention, though Even suspected that he spent about as much time watching him cook, as he did reading the words on his screen. Just in case he was right, Even made sure to put a little bit of extra sway in his hips as he danced along to the music playing. After four weeks, this had turned into rutine. 

“One of my friends want to borrow a book. Can I tell her to come over?” Isak looked over at Even in question. Over the past few weeks they had started introducing other people to their little bubble. Isak had met Hannah, and they had instantly formed an un-hollyalliance with the purpose of embarrassing Even when possible. Even, in turn, had met the roommate and a few of Isak’s friends. It had gone down about the same as Isak meeting his mum. 

“Yeah, of course.” Even sent Isak a smile amids steam streaming from the pot of pasta. Isak smiled back, already typing a reply into the computer. Ten minutes later the pasta was done cooking, and the bell rang. Isak got up with a slightly apologetic shrug, going to open the door. Even could hear him greet someone, their footsteps getting nearer to the kitchen. 

“It’s my Boyfriend’s flat,” Isak’s voice drifted down the hall.

“Uh, when did that happen?” A female voice questioned. Even frowned, trying to place where he’d heard it before. 3 people entered the kitchen. Even turned to greet them, but stopped in his tracks. Isak lead the charge followed by two other people - a beautiful young woman wearing a bright orange hijab and a smile that made her eyes crinkle, and a handsome young man in a soft blue hoodie and tousled curls that fell artfully over one eye. The pair stopped in the doorway, starring straight at Even, who could do little else but stare right back. Isak was the only one still in motion, seemingly indifferent to the sudden tension. 

“This is Even,” he placed a warm hand against Even’s shoulder, turning back to the pair at the door. “Even, this is…” He didn’t make it further.

“Even, bro. How are you?” Yousef cut Isak of, stalking across the kitchen in three long steps, arms folding tightly around Even. Even could feel Isak’s confused eyes on him as he hesitantly hugged Yousef back. 

“I’m good.” He could feel the thickness of his voice, and tried to swallow it back down. “It’s been a while.” The words felt awkward and benign on his tongue. Yousef pulled out of their slightly prolonged hug, sending him a no-kidding look. 

“You don’t say?!” Sana had made her way over to them, and she, too, pulled Even in for a much shorter hug.

“Wait, do you all know each other?”Isak’s confused voice cut through the kitchen. He was still standing next to Even, though now his arms where crossed over his chest and the look on his face send a message that was confused and demanding. 

“Uh.” Even said, looking from Isak to Sana to Yousef and back. “Yeah, I guess we do. I used to go to school with Elias.” 

“Right. Did you know the rest of the balloon squad, too, then?” At first Even didn’t catch Isak’s comment, to busy noticing the way Sana sort of settled against Yousef’s side without actually touching. When the words did register, they made very little sense, though, and he turned his head to give Isak a confused look. 

“He means our gang,” Yousef helpfully supplied for Even’s sake, and then added “Even used to be a card carrying member of the Balloon Squad.” A number of feelings ran over Isak’s face, one chasing off the other - confusion, realisation, understanding, another epiphany and, lastly, concern. All of it took a mere second, and then the emotions were packed neatly into a box, giving way to an overtly enthusiastic grin. 

“Wow. I didn’t know that. That’s kind of hilarious.” The cheer was faked, though it was hard to tell. Isak stepped closer, folding a hand around Even’s bicep, squeezing once as if to reassure Even. Even was starting to feel like an owl, looking from one person to another again and again and again. He was also feeling kind of shell choked, words tumbling about his brain without making much sense. For one thing, the hand Yousef had placed gingerly on Sana’s back was utterly baffling. 

“So, what happened to the braid.” Sana had always been brash and straight to the point. The comment was a stark reminder of that. Even could feel Isak mentally stumble at the words. 

“Uhm.” He said, eloquently. Isak had looked into the matter and now the braid had been removed by an official, who had changed both their statuses to Bonded. “Well..” 

“Holly shit.” Once again Isak was interrupted by Yousef, who stared at Even as if he’d seen a ghost. “Is Isak your lost Angel?” 

“Don’t be silly, that’s not possible.” Sana said even as Even had started a very slow nod. “Is it?” She looked to Isak for confirmation, but he simply shrugged. “How?” A hesitant smile haunted Yousef’s face, not ready to appear until everything was confirmed. 

“The bond was new back then, when it turned red. It wasn’t configured correctly, so to say.” Isak tried to explain, tripping over the words. It still felt too private to share with other people. 

The smile had slid from Yousef’s face, leaving a mask of seriousness. He shook his head slowly a couple of times, then stepped close to Even, pulling him in for another of his tight hugs. 

“This is so good to hear, man. We’ve been really worried. The boy’s’ll be over the moon when they find out.” He stepped out of the hug, grasping Even’s shoulder for good measure, giving it a tight squeeze. The words left Even winded, and he didn’t know where to turn his eyes, scared of what they could reveal.

“You’re coming to the wedding, right,” Sana’s voice broke through the hurricane that scattered Even’s thoughts. He looked up, eyebrows curled into a frown. 

“Whose wedding?” He croaked, voice somehow tight and fragile around the edges. 

“Ours,” Was the simple reply, Sana waving between herself and Yousef, which only made the frown on Even’s face deepen. “Isak didn’t tell you?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Even had almost managed to forget his soulmate’s presence despite the warm arm curled around his waist. The sound of his voice felt like a beam of sunlight in the middle of a storm. A place to go to for shelter. “Maybe I just didn’t use names, or something.” Even turned to search out Isak’s face. Blue eyes were already resting on him, shining with reassurance and comfort. 

“Seems like we have a lot to catch up on.” Yousef’s voice floated somewhere in the background. 

“Yeah, seems like,” Isak agreed, eyes still on Even, “Do you want to stay for dinner? Even’s made plenty.” 

(***) 

“Ready?” Isak reached out to straighten Even’s tie, a mild smile on his face as he focused on the task at hand. Even swallowed the lump that had taken up permanent residence the past week and a half - since Yousef and Sana’s visit. 

“I think so. Maybe.” Sana and Yousef were hosting a pre-wedding party for close friends that evening. The Balloon Squad would be there, of course, along with a number of Isak’s friends. This would be the first time in years that Even would meet up with his little band of brothers from a variety of mothers, and the thought of it sat heavily in the pit of his stomach.

He had asked Yousef not to tell the other boys about him, and Yousef had hesitantly promised not to. Even wanted to tell the story himself, even though it scared him crazy. He needed to see, with his own eyes, how they reacted to him, to Isak. 

During dinner with Yousef and Sana, they had filled him in on their lives. They had told him about finally confirming their bond after having danced around it for a few years. About convincing their parents that living together was completely acceptable despite not being married yet. They were soulmates after all. Yousef worked in a daycare and loved it to bits. Sana was, like Isak, still in school, hardcore going for her medical degree. They acted like they spoke: comfortably in sync.

They had refused to talk much about the rest of the Squad though, insisting that those were stories for the other boys to tell. 

“It’s going to be fun.” Deciding that the tie was in place, Isak pulled Even in for a quick peck on the lips, before turning on the spot, dragging Even with him out of the bedroom. 

“We’ll see about that.” The words came out almost as light as they were intended. 

(*) 

Judging from the sound coming from inside the flat, Even and Isak were the last people to arrive. It was Sana who opened the door, a huge smile on her face that had her eyes crinkling. 

“Hi!” She beamed, pulling the both of them in for tight hugs. “So great to see you both. Come in!” They left their coats in the hall, and followed Sana into the livingroom. It wasn’t a particularly large room, but the white walls and light furniture made it feel spacious and airy. A large group of people were spread throughout the room, chatting in smaller units. A hush fell over them, though, when Isak and Even entered. It was broken, a moment later, when Mikael got up from the dusty green couch, and disappeared through a door at the other end of the room. A beat later, Elias followed him. Even watched them go, distantly, almost detached. Isak tightened his hold of Even’s hand, a concerned glance aimed at his face. 

For a second, the room was quiet. Then, Yousef got up from his seat at the table where he’d been playing some sort of board game with some of Isak’s friends. He was followed by Adam and Mustafa, who all pulled Even in for tight hugs and enthusiastic greetings. Even dimly noticed the woman with a red raid hanging over her shoulder, waving for Isak to join him, as his old friends talked over each other in a ramble of questions and statements. It was just like in the old days. It was kind of great. 

It was surprisingly easy to slip into the party. Conversation flowed, as did the drinks. Hard-hitting topics were avoided as if by unspoken agreement across the group. Instead they carefully stuck to lighter topics of wedding venues and the glorydays of Isak’s highschool career. The two friend groups had seemingly integrated perfectly, and soon little groups broke of to spread across the room once again. Isak was dragged over to the table where the board game was picked back up, leaving Even on the couch with Adam, his brand-new soulmate and a couple of Isak’s friends. 

After a while, Elias came back out from the room he and Mikael had disappeared into. He squeezed onto the couch between Adam and Even, slinging an arm around both their shoulders with a cheerful “what’s up, boys?”. 

“He’ll come around. He just needs a bit of time to process.” Elias whispered to Even during a boisterous conversation. “’S good to have you back, man.” 

After two hours, lots of food and heaps of laughter, Mikael still hadn’t reemerged. Even tried to pretend he didn’t notice, though he knew he’d had half an eye on the door all evening. That’s why he spotted a young woman sliding into the room at some point with a filled plate, and saw her slide back out a while later. She caught his eye, smiled, and waved him over. He got up, crossing the room to join her by the door. 

“Hi, Even. I’m Aisha.” She smiled, a broad smile that made her dark-brown eyes twinkle with life. A Julia Roberts smile, Mikael would call it. He’d always said his soulmate would have a Julia Roberts smile. “He wants to talk to you. He might not admit it, but I know he does.” She winked, nodded to the door, then walked away. For a moment Even stayed outside the door, his heart beating overwhelmingly against his ribs. He looked up to search out Isak, who simply smiled, waved, and blew him a kiss. With one more deep breath, Even turned, opening the door. 

It turned out to be an office the size of a broom closet. There was hardly enough space for all the books, let alone the desk and the computer. Mikael was sitting in the only chair, so Even stayed standing, awkwardly leaning against the closed door. 

“Hi,” Mikael only looked at him in a short glance, eyes turning back to the hands folded in his lap. 

“Hi.” Even replied. 

“You’re back?” There was a frown on Mikaels face. He’d cut his hair, Even noticed. It was a lot more boring now. There were premature hints of grey running through it. 

“Yeah,” he said, wondering how many changes Mikael would spot if he ever looked at Even properly. 

“Isak?” Mikael glanced up from his hands for a second. His eyes were still blue. 

“Yeah,” Even repeated, folding his arms over his chest in an attempt at distancing himself from the awkwardness of the room. When they were kids the talking didn’t stop unless food or sleep was involved. That was hard to imagine now. 

“Boyfriend?” Once again Mikael glanced up shortly, as if he could only stand to look at Even for a second at a time. 

“Soulmate.” Monosyllabic conversation. This could take a while. The frown deepened on Mikael’s face. 

“Right.” He said, eyes rising to meet Even’s for the first time. There was a fire burning in them. “Last I saw you, you were covered in blood. Because of him.” The words were matter of fact, delivered on ice. 

“No.” Even replied, “Because of my illness.” Mikael raised an eyebrow. “Bipolar.” Even answered the nonverbal question. “I was depressed.” 

“You never told me that.” There was an accusation in the words. 

“I didn’t know. Not until after. I would’ve told you, if…” 

“Don’t put this on me!” Mikael exploded, the chair clanging against the desk as he shot out of it, a finger aggressively pointing at Even’s face. “My best friend tried to kill himself right after the worst fight we’ve ever had! Was I supposed to just waltz into your hospital room when I didn’t know if I was the reason?” Even blinked at him, shrinking against the door in the face of the anger aimed at him. It was all he knew to do.

“I waited for years, Even! Years! I thought…” The anger fated, quickly, leaving behind tears and resignation. “I thought I’d killed you. Almost, anyway. And now you come in here with your smile, and your laugh and your soulmate, and I…” Exhausted, Mikael sank back into the chair, wiping at his eyes with one hand. “I wish it didn’t hurt, still.” The silence that filled the room was almost unbearable. Yet Even had no idea how to break it, had no idea what to say. All the words that buzzed through his head seemed too small, too superficial. Mikael sat slumped in the rackety office chair, jaw tense, eyes distant. The words seemed to have seeped from him, too. 

“I didn’t know.” Even said because he had to say something. Mikael looked up at him with empty eyes. “I’m sorry.” Even shrugged, helplessly. Mikael shrugged back. Once again the silence filled the room, steeling all the air. Even slumped to the floor, knees close to his chest, chin resting on them. 

“Why didn’t you call?” Mikael’s voice was thin, fragile like glass. 

“I knew you wouldn’t want me to.” Even whispered. “At least I thought I knew.” He picked at a thread in the carpet. “They were filling me with drugs and questions. It took ages before the world made any kind of sense. I didn’t know what feelings were real and what was conjured up by drugs. It took years before I felt like I had my own brain back. It made sense that you guys wanted nothing to do with me. I wanted nothing to do with me. - The me I had been before…” Mikael had pulled a leg onto the edge of the chair. He was watching Even over the top of his knee. 

“We must have sent you a million texts and facebook messages between us. Sonja told Elias they were keeping you in the hospital for a while, and that it would be best if we gave you some space. We kept texting, though, even when it didn’t make sense to wait for a reply any more.” Whatever fire had been there when Even entered the room, it had died down now, leaving them both bone-tired. 

“I’m not on Facebook anymore.” Mikael shrugged a response to the words.

“Yeah, we figured that out a while ago. I still write to you though, some times. I guess our chat’s become a creepy kind of diary of stray thoughts and feelings. I guess it felt like I got to keep my best friend that way.” 

Even had to swallow down a thick lump in his throat. It almost felt as if his heart beat too slow now, burdened by too many emotions, too many thoughts. Still, the silence between them seemed less oppressive now. 

“So Isak’s the soulmate you misplaced. He seemed familiar but I could never quite put my finger on why.” It wasn’t quite a smile on Mikael’s face as he spoke, but it wasn’t not a smile either. “He’s a good guy. Solid. I can see you fitting together.” 

“Yeah,” Even agreed, feeling a smile creeping over his lips at the thought of his soulmate. “Aisha’s beautiful.” Mikael blinked at him, then tried to fight a smile of his own as a soft blush spread over his cheeks. “Great smile.” 

“Told you my soulmate would have a Julia Roberts smile.” There was a hint of a laugh in his voice, and a hint of life in his eyes. 

“You did,” Even agreed, the smile spreading to his eyes. 

“You’re going to stick around, right?” Mikael’s eyes were vulnerable, the years worth of hurt lurking just beneath the surface. Even nodded with no hesitation. 

“Yeah. I’m going to stick around.” Mikael nodded, and it was clear on his face that he believed Even. 

“Good. That’s good. ‘Cause I’m getting married in the spring, and I want my best friend there with me.” For the first time since entering the room, Even felt a true smile light up his face. The smile on Mikael’s face was more subtle, but just as heartfelt. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to hear what you thought, if you care to share :) I hope you have a lovely day.


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